Come Running Back
by Stratagem
Summary: John's brother James is in town. With a tendency toward recklessness, that means his visit starts off with a bang. John and Clarice have to rescue James and his injured girlfriend Alison Blaire, aka Dazzler, after they attack an Atlanta anti-mutant shipping magnate, starting a whole new round of problems for the Underground. Never a dull moment when James is around...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted.

A/N: Okay, sooo I sort of really love the idea of James Proudstar showing up on _The Gifted_ , and I also love the idea of Dazzler, aka Alison Blaire, being on the show, so have a crackship of Warpath and Dazzler (aka Tracklight) in the world of _The Gifted_. Takes place in my "What Could Be" series, where John and Clarice end up getting married. They're not at that point just yet, but they're DEFINITELY dating in this one. Also, the Struckers have moved on, they're no longer at the Atlanta Headquarters.

* * *

 **Come Running Back**

Chapter 1

"Hey, John, Clarice? You might want to come listen to this."

John glanced up at Sage from where he was adding to the long list of things the HQ needed. He had been sprawled out on the couch, his legs alongside Clarice's as she read through some news articles and blog posts on a tablet. She was nestled on the other side of the couch, but she kept tapping her foot against his knee.

"What is it?" he asked, reluctant to get up but already moving. Clarice clicked her tablet off and slid off the couch.

"It's the Sentinel Services radio band," Sage said, the look on her face guarded, "A couple mutants broke into one of Griffith's warehouses—"

John cursed and dropped the legal pad he had been using on the couch. Everyone in the area knew that Carter Griffith, one of the richest shipping magnates in Atlanta, was off limits. The asshat was as anti-mutant as you could get and used his wealth to support Sentinel Services, mutant bounty hunters, and any politician who ran a campaign for stricter laws against mutants.

But anyone who went after him ended up dead.

"That's not the only thing," Sage said as the three of them headed into the surveillance room, "It sort of sounds like _you_ were the one to break into the warehouse, John."

Clarice put one hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at John. "Did you get another power and just not tell me?"

"You caught me, I can duplicate," he teased even as he listened in on the radio chatter. They were tossing around code words and radio slang, but after all these years of listening in on them, he could interpret what they were saying. As it became clearer, a hollow started to form in his stomach, a sick dawning realization.

Two mutant suspects, one male and one female, had broken into Griffith's warehouse and caused major damage to a shipment of undisclosed goods. Griffith's personal security force had retaliated, and the blond female suspect with photon manipulation abilities had been shot.

The second suspect, a dark-haired male with enhanced strength, speed, and agility, had taken the injured female suspect and left the scene. Sentinel Services was already in pursuit. The security force had fired shots at him as well, but the suspect appeared to be wearing Kevlar or had bullet-proof skin.

John was betting on the latter.

"I'm going to kill him," John said as he fished his phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. It was the last number that James had given him, but the call quickly came back as disconnected.

"He's not answering?" Clarice asked as he shoved the cell back into his pocket.

John shook his head.

"Well, that's just great," Clarice said sarcastically, but the worry in her eyes betrayed her. She was just as concerned as he was.

"You think it's James?" Sage asked, her attention mostly on the scanners and scrolling info, "There's a 78.4% chance that it's him."

"Pretty damn certain," John said, thinking about the last conversation he had had with his brother. He had mentioned Griffith and how he was making trouble for local mutants by funding people who hated them. It seemed like his little brother had taken it to heart and decided to do something about it. The idiot. John had said multiple times that Griffith wasn't someone to mess with, and what did James do? Go right after him. Of course. "Add in the fact that he has a blond girlfriend with photon manipulation."

"Make that an 87% chance."

Yeah, that's what he thought. His hands clenched into fists, and Clarice's hand rested on his shoulder as he closed his eyes, focusing on his brother.

This didn't work with everyone, tracking from a distance, without a trail or lead. But with people he was close to, that he shared a connection with? Sometimes he could make it work. And with James, it always worked.

He thought about his brother, zeroing in on him and ignoring the constant input his senses tried to feed into his brain. Cutting it off, he focused in on James, where he was now, where he had been, letting the need to find him drive his ability.

A boot splashing through an oily puddle. James was keeping to the shadows, away from the streets, away from being spotted. Sirens wailed in the distance. He was running but carrying someone in his arms, a girl.

Blood glinted on both of them when James had to go close to the road, too close to a streetlight. The girl's face was drained of color, deathly pale except for the vibrant smudge of blue over one eye. That was Ali, codename Dazzler.

James darted back into the darkness, pulling her chose, his lips moving without sound in John's vision. It looked like he was pleading with the nearly unconscious girl he was carrying. He ducked into a building and John caught a glimpse of street sign before the scene ended.

"They're on Westmont," John said, "I think Ali's hurt pretty bad. James looked…" He shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief second as he remembered the panicked expression on his brother's face.

John hadn't officially met Alison Blaire, James' on-again-off-again girlfriend, but he had talked to her on the phone a few times. She was sassy and fun-loving, and he knew how much his brother cared about her, even during the periods when they weren't dating. John's gaze lingered on Clarice, and he reached out to take her hand. He could imagine how freaked out James would be if Ali was injured as badly as it seemed she was.

"Cecilia's out with Lorna and Marcos," Sage reminded him, "They're meeting with her contact—"

"Call her, please," John said, "We're going to need her." Cecilia Reyes was the HQ's doctor. She had joined the Underground a few months before Marcos and Lorna's daughter Aurora was born, and while she had initially intended to transfer to a new HQ after that, she had wound up staying in Atlanta. The whole HQ was better for it, seeing how her practical input and medical knowledge was invaluable. With a background in emergency surgery before she had been chased out of her residency for being a mutant, she was calm in intense situations and had saved multiple lives since she had arrived.

It looked like she might have to save another life that night.

"C'mon, Fearless," Clarice said, yanking open a portal to the garage with one hand as she kept hold of John's hand with the other. Her skills kept improving every day it seemed. "Let's go find them."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted!

A/N: This story, like most of mine, will flip-flop from chapter to chapter with POVs. So this one happens to be from James' POV! Also, mentions of blood warning, there's a lot of it.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

James slammed his steel-toed boot into another door, busting the frame, decimating the lock. He rushed inside the closed convenience store. Bandages, towels, he needed something to help keep Ali from bleeding out.

In his arms, she winced, her fingers pressing into his skin where she had one hand looped around his neck. Her other hand was pressed against her stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood from the bullet wound.

"Let me melt the lock next time," she mumbled, "You're so noisy." A weak glow flickered in the air in front of them, an array of red and blue, a reflection of the police lights that kept following them.

"Hell no," James said, "We don't need the extra attention." And he didn't want her to waste any energy. He had to keep her talking, though, so making her angry seemed like the best route. "You're seriously too laser happy, you know that?"

"And kicking down the door like you're in a bad cop movie is subtle?" She let out a halting breath that would've been an annoyed laugh in better circumstances. "You can shut your mouth."

"Better than going all sci-fi blasters on it," he said, heading down one of the small, short aisles. He nodded to the glow that was still in front of them, lighting the space just a little as it turned white. "Stop it. You know I don't need it and someone might see."

The glowing ball shuddered and dissipated, leaving them in shadows again. "Sorry…it hurts." And when she was in pain, her powers usually came into play.

James' heart clenched and so did his hands, tightening around her, trying to keep her with him. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer, worry seeping into each word, "I'm going to fix it."

"James—"

"I am," he snapped, not wanting to hear her say it was okay, that she didn't expect him to perform some kind of miracle. He was going to find a way to save her, no other options allowed.

They didn't have much time, the cops and Sentinel Services would be on them any moment. He and Ali had been running for too long now, like they were playing some kind of messed up game of keep-away with the Sentinels that had to come to a close. They had gone from the warehouses to the streets of Atlanta, but he hadn't been able to find a place to stop. For a few minutes, they had hid in a building on Westmont street, but the Services had shown up too damn quick.

Ali was partially right, by destroying the doors, he was leaving a more noticeable trail than they would if she just melted the locks. But he didn't have time to think about that, he had bigger things to worry about, like how she was going to die if he didn't get her some real medical help.

Ali needed a hospital. That bullet wound, he had no idea if it had torn through something vital. There was so much blood. Maybe he could break into an OR and hold a surgical team hostage? Or catch a surgeon somewhere? No, no, that would make things worse, and Sentinel Services would still come for them.

He heard Ali's breath catch in her lungs, focused on the unsteady but still there beat of her heart.

But. He was keeping that open as an option.

If he could just get ahold of John, his brother would figure something out less dramatic, something sensible. He or Clarice would know someone in the area who could help them. But James' last burner phone was gone, it had gotten waterlogged during the mission before this one, and finding a payphone was laughable right now. James could get to John's HQ easy just by memory, but Ali would be dead long before he got there.

"I don't hear sirens," Ali mumbled.

James shook his head. "I think we lost them for a while."

"Hooray. Let's throw a party."

"That's actually why we're here, babe, I thought we'd go ahead and pick up some supplies. What kind of chips do you want?"

She laughed but it turned into a cough.

He found the aisle with something he was looking for. Hand towels, the kind people bought to wipe up oil, that would at least help. Adjusting his hold on Ali, muttering apologies as she gasped, he was able to reach out and grab a handful. A car passed by in front of the store, and James looked up as lights cut across the top of the shelves. Not a cop car, but they couldn't be far behind.

Ali's grip around his neck went slack, fingers sliding across his skin, and her head dropped backward as she went limp. James snapped his arm back, pulling her closer, cradling her head.

"Shit, Ali, don't—" He rushed down the aisle and toward the back. Rounding the corner, he shoved open the door to the staff workroom. There wasn't much back there, just boxes and crates, storage. There was a sink in the corner, a fridge, a long table. Holding her the best he could with one arm without hurting her more, he swept the table clean.

"Alison, wake up," James demanded as he carefully set her on the table and pulled the bloodied jacket away from her stomach. It was the black one she had been wearing during the fight, but they had been using it to help temporarily patch the gunshot wound. James tossed it away and grabbed one of the towels as blood started to pool again. Ripping her shirt, he pushed the sticky cloth away before pressing down the fresh towel.

Blood seeped into the cloth as he pressed his hand harder against Ali's wound, and his own heart pounded. "Ali? Damn it, Ali, open your eyes," he said, cupping his over hand around her cheek before pressing his fingers to her neck. He could hear her heartbeat, hear it flutter as she lost more blood, but he wanted to feel her pulse, wanted the extra reassurance. She needed a transfusion, she needed the bullet taken out, she needed so much more than he could give her.

"Say please…" Her eyes flickered open but stayed half-lidded as she glanced up at him. Blue eyes filled with pain, a half-crushed sob at the end of her tease. He had to do something for her now.

James ran his knuckles over her cheek. "Don't do that."

"Sorry." A grimace stormed over her features and she started to twist, curling toward her wound. He put his hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down.

"Stop moving around, you'll make it worse."

"How?" she mumbled, but she stopped. Her gaze roamed around the room before landing on him again. "Where are we?"

"Back room of the store," he answered. She was so pale, her skin almost grey. She was probably only conscious due to sheer willpower, if that was possible. "You have to stay awake."

"I'm trying." She reached out and put her hand on his arm, her fingers trembling. "James. We can't stay here."

"We have to for a minute," he said, his voice hardening, "We can't move." If he picked her up, she would bleed more, he couldn't keep pressure on her wound if they were moving, not the way he needed to. She couldn't lose much more blood. Her body wouldn't be able to take it.

"Okay. _You_ can't stay here."

He looked at her, fully meeting her eyes, and knew automatically what she was saying. "I know where you're going with this, and you better _not_."

"Just listen."

"No, I won't. I'm not leaving you to Sentinel Services. Are you insane?"

"I'm not asking you to…not like that."

He froze, except for his left hand, the one that was resting on the table. His grip tightened and the metal bent under his fingers. "Then what, exactly, are you asking me to do?"

"Let me go," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. She pushed feebly at his arm, at his hand that was pressed to her wound. "Just stop and run."

He didn't budge a centimeter, but he did reach up and grab her wrist, gently pulling her hand away. "And what are you going to do when I'm gone?"

She didn't meet his eyes, and he shook his head, glaring at the door. He knew what she would do. Both of them had always said they would never let Sentinel Services take them alive, that they would go out fighting, that being captured wasn't for them. Closing his eyes, he could see her intentions in a flash of the future, the blaze of laser streaks that would engulf the building, destroying the support beams in a blast of her signature power, the siren howls becoming deadly light, taking out Sentinel Services and her with them.

Bending down, one elbow going onto the table, he scowled. "No. You're not doing that."

Ali turned her head away, tears streaming down her face. "It's my choice."

"And I have a choice, too. I'm staying."

"James, _please_ —"

Someone was there. He could hear somebody coming into the shop, using the door he had broken. Two people. Urgent steps. James straightened up, every part of him going on the defensive. With his free hand, he yanked one of his long blades from its sheathe on his thigh. Grabbing Ali's hand, he moved it to the towel, his thumb running over the back of her hand before stepping away, stalking toward the door. A glow filled the room, light yellow, a warning.

Those footsteps, though, he recognized—

James flung open the backroom's door before John could open it. Relief yanked at him as John lunged at him, grabbing him by the arm. Behind John was Clarice, her green eye luminous in the faint light of the red exit sign over the door.

"What the hell happened?" John asked as he looked James up and down, hunting for an injury that wouldn't be there. Old habits died hard was the saying, wasn't it.

James yanked John into the room, toward the table, toward Ali. "Do something, help her. You can yell at me later, just help her."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted.

A/N: Back to John's POV! I think next chapter will be Clarice's POV. PS- There are still lots of mentions of blood in this chapter. And a few mentions of needles.

* * *

Chapter 3

The smell of blood was overwhelming. James was covered, streaks of dark red down his arms, smudged over his cheek and neck, a stain across his chest. None of it his. It was smeared on the door, the frame, and now John's wrist.

John pulled away from James' grip and rushed over to the table where Alison was laying, propped up on one elbow and dull lights flickering in the air above her. The lights faded when she sunk back down as John stepped up to the table, his hand automatically applying pressure to the gunshot wound. She winced and weakly jerked to the side, but she looked up at him with blue eyes he recognized from pictures James had sent.

"Hi, John," she said faintly, "Not exactly how I was hoping to officially meet…but hi."

"Hey, Ali. I have to agree." It was hard to pair that bright and happy 'hey, jerk, tell John and Clarice I said hi!' voice in the background of his and James' phone conversations with the faded girl on the table.

"She got shot, I've been trying to stop the bleeding, but—" James fumbled the rest of what he was going to say as he reached over and grabbed Ali's hand. James looked up at John with such desperation that John forgot about being furious at him for the moment. He shoved his anger into the back of his mind, compartmentalizing, and focused on keeping Ali alive. He had some rudimentary medical skills from his time in the Marines, stuff that would help out in life and death situations like this one.

"Cecilia said she'll meet us back at HQ," Clarice said as she hurried over, stopping at John's elbow. A flash of shock crossed her face at the sight of Ali, but she quickly masked it and grabbed the girl's other hand. "Hey, you. You know we would've come to see you guys without you getting hurt, right?"

Ali gave a pained smile. "Yeah." She was starting to struggle to breathe, each breath sucked in through gritted teeth.

"Can't your doctor come here?" James said, "We can't move Ali, she's…" It was bad, but he didn't want to say that. He didn't have to, both of them could tell just by looking at her. "We can't move her."

"Make him go," Ali said, her hand gripping Clarice's, her eyes dull. "Can't stay."

"Would you stop already, I'm not leaving you here," James said, his anger rushing up to mask his helplessness. "So just—stop."

"You're both coming with us," Clarice said firmly, "None of us are staying here, so quit arguing about it."

"Ali, I'm going to take a look at this…" John said, lifting the cloth away from her wound for a moment so he could get a better idea of what was going on. He had seen gut shots like this before on the battlefield and also while out trying to protect mutants, and they were never good. There were too many vital organs that could've gotten nicked or pierced, and she was losing too much blood and her pulse was weak and rapid. She was going to go into shock soon if he didn't figure something out.

She might go into shock no matter what he tried. She was already starting to show the signs. Even as he took her pulse, Ali's eyes fluttered and closed.

"No, come on, baby…" James pressed his hand to her cheek and then shook her shoulder, his panicked brown eyes locking on John. "She did this earlier, she'll wake up again."

John put the towel back in place and applied pressure. "We're going to have to take the chance," he said, "We have to get her back to Cecilia."

"No," James snapped.

"James, look, if we stay, if _she_ stays—"

"She'll bleed out and die if we move her. So no."

This was ridiculous, he was going to get them both killed. "What are you going to do, fight off a whole Sentinel squad by yourself? What about the spider drones?" It was surprising that they hadn't already sent out those drones, but maybe James had crushed them all.

Clarice cut in, probably recognizing the stubborn look on James' face as an identical copy to John's own expression. "She's not going to bleed out, I'm O negative and we brought a transfusion kit because we thought ahead." _Unlike some people_ was the silent implication, but she wasn't going to scold him now either. She looked at James pointedly. "But we have to get to the van first so we can go."

James scowled and then looked back at John. "Fine."

"Pick her up, I'll keep pressure," John said before turning toward Clarice. Before he could even ask, she was already tearing a portal in the air. Through it, he could hear the very first faint, far off wails of the police sirens. James hear it too, and his head jerked up.

"Six cars," he said, "Three are Sentinel Services." The sound on those was slightly different, higher-pitched than a regular police car. Plus, they were heavier, their prisoner areas reinforced to transport people with powers.

"Move," John said, and James immediately lifted Ali off the table. They hurried through the portal and Clarice jumped after them, racing to get to the driver's seat while James and John climbed into the back. The van had been fitted out a long time ago to help them pick up and transport injured mutants, so there was a medical exam table bolted down to the back. They had scavenged it from a junkyard months ago, back when Cecilia joined the team.

"I'll drive," James said, his hand landing on Clarice's shoulder as she climbed into the driver's seat.

"I've got this," Clarice said, pulling the door shut.

"No, if you have to do a blood transfusion, I need to drive." He looked back at John and Ali anxiously before turning back toward Clarice. "C'mon, Clarice, you know it makes sense."

"You're going to be distracted."

"No shit, we're all distracted," he said, earning him a glare from John for talking to Clarice like that when she was trying to help.

But Clarice took it in stride. "I know, but are you sure you can focus on the road? It's not going to do us any good if we get smeared on the pavement."

"I've got good reflexes. This gives me something to do," James said, "I need to do something, Clarice."

John knew that feeling. It always seemed like he and James were so different, but on things like that, they were just the same. If their positions were swapped, if Clarice was the one injured, he would've wanted to do something to help, too.

Clarice nodded and got out of the seat while James slid into it, both of them maneuvering around each other. In the back, John worked quickly, strapping Ali in for safety and setting up an IV as James started the van. Clarice stumbled as James took off too fast, and John reached out to steady her, leaving a bloody hand print on her arm. She grabbed his elbow so she could get her balance and then stepped to his side.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked, taking Ali's hand again.

"Talk to her, try to get her to wake up," he said. He was worried about the blue tinge on Ali's lips, and he wondered if they had resupplied the oxygen tank after that last emergency trip. But first, he needed to get fluids and blood into her. She was going into what Cecilia would call hypovolemic shock, and if he didn't get that under control, she could start going into organ failure.

"Hey, Ali, I need you to open your eyes," Clarice said while John opened the transfusion kit. "You know, I heard John say that heavy metal was better than electro pop. He's got the trashiest taste in music, so what does he know? You should help me insult his music." She rubbed Ali's arm, trying to get her to wake up. "Ali?"

Up front, James took a corner too quickly, and John had to shuffle his feet to keep his balance. He looked at James in the mirror before going back to prepping Ali's arm. "Does Clarice need to drive?"

"Sorry," James said, "Did she wake up?"

"No, now pay attention to the road," John said. He knew that was harsh, but they each had a job to do here, and James had chosen to drive. John slid one needle into Ali's arm and then held out a hand to Clarice. She extended an arm, and he swabbed it with alcohol before looking her in the eyes. She met his gaze and nodded, and he jabbed the needle as carefully as he could into her arm.

This was going to be an awful ride.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted.

AN: Still lots of mentions of blood. It'll get away from that eventually! Also, Cecilia Reyes in this fic looks like Rosario Dawson, since the New Mutants movie is going with someone else and I'd rather stay canon with her.

* * *

Chapter 4

Talk about a 180. It had been a quiet night until Sage had interrupted Clarice and John, and since then it had become chaotic, messy, and nerve-wracking. Clarice tightened her hold on the side of the van as it roared down some country backroad, heading toward HQ as fast as they could go without alerting the cops.

From her left arm, an IV trailed from her to Ali. The girl didn't have that grey-blue look to her anymore, but she was still so, _so_ pale, it was hard for Clarice to tell if the transfusion was doing her much good.

Clarice leaned her hip against the bolted-down table. Ali hadn't woken up really since they left that store back in Atlanta. She had opened her eyes a couple times but she had only looked around, disoriented and distant, not answering them when they talked to her. She kept drifting back into unconsciousness.

"You okay?" John asked, looking at Clarice anxiously. He had one hand pressed to the wound in Ali's stomach while he kept the other against her wrist, on her pulse. "Are you feeling all right? You're not dizzy or anything?"

"I'm fine." Clarice shook her head. "But we need to get there faster."

"If we go over the speed limit too much we'll get pulled." John spoke louder, emphasizing that in case James made the decision to speed up. Sentinel Services was still out there looking for them, and it was a miracle that they hadn't run into any roadblocks. Sage had called to check on them a few minutes ago, and she had said that most of the search was still back in the city. It wouldn't be long before they extended it, especially with Griffith egging them on. Sage had also said Cecilia was back at HQ and prepping their medical area, so she would be ready for them when they got there.

"Or we could outrun them," James said, not looking away from the road.

"Stay the speed limit," John replied, his voice firm, not leaving much room for arguments.

"I could portal us there," Clarice said, looking down at Ali. She wanted to say that she was worried that Ali wouldn't make it, that the ride was too much, but no matter how quietly she said it, James would hear. Instead, she just gave John a long look, leaving it to him to understand what that meant.

"It's too far," he said, shaking his head, "And if we do that, someone might see it and report it."

"I can speed up," James said, "We're pretty far from the city."

"No," John said, "We can't draw attention to ourselves, and we can't get pulled."

Clarice sighed and nodded, hoping that James would go along with that logic as well. If they got pulled over by the police right now, Ali would probably die before the authorities could get her to a hospital in Atlanta. On top of that, the rest of them would doubtlessly go to jail. Their best bet was to get to HQ, though this speed was painfully slow. If only she was better at her portals.

On the table, Ali stirred, her eyes squinting open for a moment. She blinked rapidly as John switched to gripping her hand, as if he could hold her in that second of consciousness.

"Hey, you're safe, okay?" John said, gentle with her, "Do you know where you are?"

"Where's James?" she mumbled, looking at John uncertainly.

"I'm here!" James yelled from the front of the van, halfway turned around in his seat. "Ali, I'm right here, you're going to be fine. I swear."

"What's going on?" Ali asked, "I don't…" She winced and gave a small cry while above them, a sharp beam of light appeared. It twisted and turned, contorting like it was writhing. It spread out into a spindly star. Clarice noticed that where it brushed against the ceiling of the van, it left scorch marks.

"Ali?" James said, "Ali, it's okay, you're okay, I'm here."

"John, don't let that touch you," Clarice said, still watching the glow and letting go of the side of the van so she could grip the table instead. She kept her left arm elevated, letting the transfusion work. "Ali, you need to stop the glowy thing. You're safe, we promise. James is safe."

"Where…"

"He's driving, we're going to HQ," Clarice said, touching the girl's arm, knowing she was afraid and bewildered. Hell, anyone would be if they were in her shoes. "We're going to get you some help there, but you have to get rid of the laser star thing."

"Ali, sweetheart, I know it hurts, I know," James said, and Clarice could hear the fear and worry in his pseudo-calm voice. "But you have to get a handle on your powers."

"James?" Ali shifted, straining a little against the straps that held her down. Panic lit up her confused blue eyes, but John squeezed her hand.

"Ali, it's okay, I promise," he said, leaning down, his other hand still over her wound. "Just stay awake."

"I…can't." The slowly spinning laser star dissipated back into an uneasy blue glow. A sob broke out of her, and tears trailed down her face. "M'tired."

"You have to stay awake," Clarice said, rubbing Ali's arm.

"Alison Elizabeth Blaire, you better listen to them," James put in, a razor edge to his words, "You have to. Don't you dare fall asleep again."

Ali's eyes sparked just a little and she nodded. Clarice reached out and gently brushed her hand over the girl's hair before wiping away her tears. "We're going to take care of you both, I promise."

Ali leaned her cheek against Clarice's hand and half-closed her eyes. She looked so young, a lot younger than eighteen, and Clarice wished she could take all that pain and fear away from her. She looked up and over at John, who looked tense and worried. It wouldn't take too much longer to get to HQ, but it felt like it was taking forever. This shouldn't have been happening.

If the laws weren't the way they were, Ali wouldn't be in this situation. She and James would've both been high school seniors, applying for colleges and prepping for scholarships and spending their last year being stupid kids. Not out antagonizing some anti-mutant scumbag and getting shot in the process. Still, they shouldn't have been doing that anyways, no matter the reason.

James pulled onto the dirt road that led up to the abandoned bank, and the moment they were off the pavement, he slammed down on the gas. Clarice swayed and had to grab the table, and John reached across Ali to catch her arm, holding her up.

"James," John snapped, "Slow down."

"I will in a minute." The van fishtailed a bit as it tore up the driveway, gravel spitting behind it. The wave of fear that hit everyone caught them for a split second before the lookout realized who they were and stopped. The gate was pulled back in preparation, and the van nearly jumped the speed bump that was in front of it.

"You're going to hurt her if you don't slow down," John warned, letting go of Clarice's arm, fingers trailing down her sleeve.

James didn't say anything, but he slowed down just a little as the van roared up to the front of HQ. He parked it as close to the steps as he could get without actually driving up them. While James jumped out of his seat, John reached over and slid the needle out of Clarice's arm. They had a tiny blood bank inside, so if Ali needed more, Cecilia already had it ready.

James rushed to Ali's side and scooped her up, holding her against his chest. "Hey, hey, Ali…" He plucked the IV bag off its hanger and held it along with her, his eyes wild since she had dropped into unconsciousness again.

Clarice did feel a little faint now, but she powered through it, ripping a portal open in the back of the van that led straight to Cecilia's infirmary. "Go," she said, "Hurry!" Giving all that blood to Ali had taken more out of her than she realized. James rushed through, followed up John and finally Clarice. Her leg buckled as she stepped through, and John caught her by the waist, hauling her up against his side.

"You need to eat something," he said, "And rest."

"Later," she said, looking around the room.

If Cecilia had been at all startled by a portal opening up in the infirmary, she didn't show it. Instead, she was focused on Ali, moving with efficient speed, cutting off the girl's shirt and getting right to the wound. Shaan, a relatively new arrival who had been working on his nursing degree before going on the run, was assisting her by hooking Ali up to some monitors they had scrounged from some discard sale.

"I need you all out of my OR," Cecilia said, glancing up for a second at Clarice and John, "I need to focus. This is…It's going to take some time."

"I'm staying," James said, his hand tight around Ali's.

Cecilia's eyes landed on him, sympathetic but unyielding. "The best thing you can do for her right now is let us work. Okay?"

James started to shake his head, to get a tighter grip on Ali's hand, but John wrapped a hand around his upper arm, giving him a gentle tug. "Let's give them some room," he said, quietly, as he pulled James toward the door.

For a second, it looked like James might try to fight John right there, but finally nodded. He reached over and brushed his knuckles against Ali's cheek. "Don't leave," he pleaded, his voice catching. Straightening up, he stormed out of the room, but Clarice could see the shine of tears in his eyes. The kid was terrified. And he had every right to be.

"Keep us updated, please," John said, looking at Cecilia.

She nodded back to him, and Clarice and John headed out, closing the infirmary door behind them. John started to run a hand through his hair and then stopped. She realized he was staring at the blood on his hands, the spatters trailing up his wrists. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. "We should find James. And get you something to eat."

Clarice sighed. He always worried about her. "We can bring James something to eat, if we're doing that."

They all needed coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted!

* * *

Chapter 5

There were four new holes in the brick wall. John sighed as he brushed his thumb across the crumbling edge of the first one. While James rarely did anything like John, he did deal with pent-up frustration, guilt, and helplessness almost the same way as John. It wasn't the best trait to inherit, but their mother had been much the same way. She would smash things or got outside and tear the laundry off the line. Their father had been the quiet one, pushing his anger into silence and tension, or at least that was what John remembered.

It had been a long time ago.

John followed the holes down the hall to where his brother was sitting in the corner, his hands buried in his long wet hair, his elbows on his drawn-up knees. Forcing him to take a shower had been John's first major accomplishment, but after that, James had refused to do anything else besides station himself outside of the makeshift operating room.

He had eventually been chased off by Shaan, who was an empath. Shaan couldn't handle James' roiling emotions, and the distraction wasn't helping with Ali's surgery so James had been asked to get at least fifty feet away or go hang out in the safe.

Reluctantly, James had left, and John hadn't followed him. If he was James, and Clarice had been in Ali's place, he would've wanted some time to himself. For a while, he had settled down on a couch with Clarice, stroking her hair until she nodded off against his shoulder. Donating blood had taken a lot out of her, and even a cup of coffee and half a ham and cheese sandwich hadn't been enough to take the edge off her exhaustion.

Once Clarice was fully asleep, he slipped away, gently laying her down on the couch and covering her with a blanket. He would come back later to take her to bed. For now, she was fine where she was, and everyone else knew better than to try and wake up Clarice. She was particularly snarky when she was abruptly awakened.

John looked down at James, wanting to yank him up into a hug. But James was a scrawny little twelve-year-old anymore, and maybe a hug wasn't exactly what he needed in this moment. Instead, John sat down beside him and waited.

"She could die." James' voice ragged and reluctant, sharp-edged with horror at the very real possibility.

"Cecelia's an actual surgeon, and Shaan worked in the ER," John said, "They both know what they're doing." He wasn't going to say it couldn't happen, though. Those had been serious wounds, but he did believe in Cecelia and her skills.

James lifted his head, shoving his hair back. He roughly wiped a hand over his face. "There was a lot of blood."

"I swear they'll do everything they can," John said, reaching out to touch his arm. James jerked away from him, and John backed off. "And Ali's going to fight, too. From everything you've told me about her, she's not the type to give up, and she'd be pissed off at you for thinking she would."

"I know but…it's really bad, isn't it? I screwed up so bad," James said. He got up abruptly and took a few steps forward before turning around. "This is on me, it's my fault."

"I seriously doubt you wanted this to happen," John said, watching his little brother clench his fists.

"No, but I wanted to hurt that guy," he snapped back, "I wanted to make him pay, and now…" James lashed out at the wall, which crumbled under the blow, bricks giving way and turning to red powder. He slammed his fist into the dent, widening it, before he leaned against the wall. "I can't even do anything. I can't help her."

"You're here for her, and that's what you can do right now," John said, "You can also stop punching those bricks. Your knuckles are going to eventually split open."

"Not anytime soon," James mumbled but he turned around, resting his back against the wall.

After a few quiet moments, John glanced over at his brother. "What happened out there? Why were you at Griffith's?"

"Because he's a bastard," James growled. He bumped his head against the wall and gritted his teeth. "We had a plan."

John nodded. "Mhmm." Yeah, and that plan had obviously gone awry, based on the results.

"We _did_." James shot a glare at him and pushed away from the wall. "We waited until the guard changed and found a weak spot in the fence. Ali took out the lights near that spot, and we were going to burn a few warehouses."

It was John's turn to glare. "And you two thought that was helping the mutant cause how?"

"Because he throws all his money behind those anti-mutant people!" James responded, "And even with insurance money, losing all those warehouses would be a blow."

"At least until he pinned it all on mutants, getting even more support for those hate groups and lobbyists," John said, "Which is exactly what he's going to do."

"Will you just—" James bristled and looked away. "Can you…can you wait until later to lecture me."

John winced. "Sorry." He hadn't meant to lay into James right now, not when he was already under a lot of stress.

James shrugged. "It was okay until we hit this one spot. It was like…I don't know how, but Ali's powers stopped working and so did my foresight. I still had strength and enhanced senses, but I couldn't see what was coming. And then these extra guard came after us, and I got separated from Ali, and you know what happened." James dug his fingertips a couple centimeters into the bricks. "I got her and got out of there. So no, you don't have to tell me how stupid it all was, I'm figuring that out on my own."

John shook his head. The idea of some way to turn off a mutant's powers remotely was worrisome, but they could talk about it some other time. James needed support, not condemnation, but John had started thinking about the potential fallout and the possible aftereffect of what they had done. There would be time for that later, after Ali was better and this night was behind them. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"What if she dies. I can't—" James stopped talking and crossed his arms tight over his chest, as if he was holding himself together. Guilt and fury raged in his dark brown eyes, but soon a sheen of tears took over. He looked down, avoiding John's eyes.

John got up and stepped over to James, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug before he could protest. For a moment, James tensed up then he dropped his forehead against John's shoulder. Yeah, James wasn't a kid anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't use a hug. It was the best way John could show that he was there for him.

He wrapped his arms around James and hugged him tighter, only letting go when James did. He squeezed James' upper arm and moved back, giving him some space. "Come on, I'm getting you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Then you can just look at it," John said, heading toward the stairs. "Let's go." After hesitating, James followed him after.

Both of them were silent as John fixed James a ham and cheese sandwich (his specialty tonight, apparently) and a giant plastic cup of water. He made another cup of coffee for himself. He put James take the sandwich and the water and grabbed his own mug before leaving the kitchen. He could faintly hear the sounds from the operating room, so he hurried through the building with James in tow until they reached one of the side doors.

Outside, the night air was crisp and clean and cool, refreshing after the stuffy, boarded up bank. He sat down on the steps as James dropped onto the low concrete wall nearby, setting the food and cup on the wall as well. With no lights in sight, it was easy to see the stars hanging overhead, scattered across the darkness.

He heard James take in a deep breath and looked over to see him take a bite out of the sandwich. However long he needed to, John was going to stay with James. He willed Ali to be okay. She would be. It was a gut feeling, but John had learned a long time ago that his instincts were usually right.


End file.
